All Rise...

Editor's Note

The Charge

For the love of Boris Karloff, I have no freakin' idea why I like this
movie.

The Case

Renowned horror author R. Chetwynd-Hayes (John Carradine, Stagecoach) is walking past a bookstore
displaying his work when he is accosted by a desperate man (Vincent Price, House of Wax). When Chetwynd-Hayes
assures him that he will do anything he can to help, the stranger takes him up
on the offer by sinking his fangs into his benefactor's neck. A few minutes
later, the vampire, named Eramus, thanks his benefactor for the pick-me-up and
offers to repay him in kind by taking him to an exclusive night spot for the
supernatural—The Monster Club. As they enjoy the entertainment, Chetwynd
is regaled with three tales:

The Shadmock Raven (James Laurenson, Pink Floyd's The
Wall), a recluse whose only companions are the pigeons who come to be fed
every day and his collection of priceless antiquities, hires an assistant to
help him catalog his collection. Though she's initially put off by his
appearance, she gets accustomed to it, mainly because she's running a scam with
her lover to steal as much stuff as possible. So she's quick to accept when
Raven proposes marriage—but what she doesn't realize is that Raven is a
Shadmock—a monster with an odd yet devastating power.

The Ghouls A movie director (Stuart Whitman, The Longest Day) is scouting for a
location for his next movie when he stumbles across a town of ghouls. Can he
direct his way to freedom?

Amicus Productions was a small British film company that had a number of
classics during the 1970s, including Asylum and The House that Dripped Blood.
The Monster Club was their last hurrah—so much so that while the
movie was filmed as an Amicus Production, the company folded during
post-production.

The movie itself is, shall we say, unique. The stories themselves are at
best a mixed bag. "The Shadmock" works despite itself, primarily on the strength
of James Laurenson's performance. He sells Raven's isolation and pain, and
almost sells his devastating power—a diabolical, uh, whistle. Yeah,
I said it. He whistles and you die. "The Vampires" is straight-up
stupid—but filmmakers know that it's ridiculous—it's a parody
of filmmakers' autobiographical films—and plays it to the hilt, to the
point that you feel as though you're laughing with the filmmakers, not at them.
"The Ghouls" has wonderful atmosphere, and is the closest thing to a true horror
story in the bunch, but the plot itself is one-note and predictable.

And yet, this is a fun movie. A lot of that has to do with the framing
device—something that distinguished most of the Amicus anthologies. They
take the idea—a monster's nightclub—and go all in on the concept,
with all manner of monsters populating the place, dancing, songs (some pretty
good ones, actually—and let me tell you something: When a Monster Club
stripper takes it off, she really takes it off! Price and Carradine play
off one another well, and there's a nice twist at the end when Eramus decides to
put his new friend up for membership in the august assembly, arguing that as a
human, Chetwynd-Hayes represents the greatest monsters of all.

The movie is also supported by a strong soundtrack, not just in the
atmospheric music cues that accompany the tales, but also the performances in
the club. Popular local bands of the time perform complete songs, which not only
sells the idea of the club, but it also pads out the run time. The result is a
fairly eclectic array of music—you're not likely to see both John Williams
and UB40 on the same soundtrack very often. Copies of the soundtrack
album-that's a vinyl album, just to be
clear—go for over $350 on eBay.

If the screener disc we received is any indication, the finished disc will
be fantastic. Rich, vibrant colors without bleeding—and keep in mind that
we're talking a late 70s palette, very little in the way of noticeable film
damage. Of course, there is a price for that level of definition, and in this
case, the makeup pays the price, particularly in the confines of the club
itself, which is basically a prosthetic head convention. The audio is equally
good, with strong stereo imaging and dynamic range.

Scorpion also serves up an excellent helping of extras, though they are
focused more on Price than the movie itself. This is part of the Katarina's
Nightmare Theater line, so the movie has an intro and epilogue from host
Katarina Leigh Waters. There's also a music-only audio track, which is
particularly welcome.

The remaining extras feature film historian David Del Valle: * A 60+
minute interview with Price, recorded in 1987, that is essentially a
retrospective of Price's career to that point. * A 40+ audio interview
with Price, also on his career. * A 10 minute interview with Waters that
focuses more on the film.

A word of warning: Price and Carradine put their boogie shoes on at the end
of the movie. What has been seen cannot be unseen.

The Monster Club is, in a way, a last gasp from a dying age of horror
movies. Halloween came out in 1978, but it understood the value of
restraint and atmosphere. But with the releases of Friday the 13th and Prom Night the same year as The
Monster Club, the age of restraint was gone, and all that remained was the
quest for more blood, higher body counts, and continuing sequels to milk the
last drop from the cash cow. That's why The Monster Club, for me at
least, works despite its many flaws. You simply have a group of talented
professionals coming together to try and make a good movie. They're not out to
make art, they're not out to make a fortune—they just want to entertain
and have fun doing it. And there's a lot to be said for that.